


The Cursed And The Divine

by GES_Round_Robin_Fics, jamies_lady, MissFantastic, mrs_helenesnape, the_artful_scribbler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gore, Major Character Deaths (several), Multi, No Slash, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Sex, Story Now Complete, Strong Language, Triad - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 17:38:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GES_Round_Robin_Fics/pseuds/GES_Round_Robin_Fics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamies_lady/pseuds/jamies_lady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFantastic/pseuds/MissFantastic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_helenesnape/pseuds/mrs_helenesnape, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_artful_scribbler/pseuds/the_artful_scribbler
Summary: "When Voldemort unleashes a plague on the world, Hermione, Lucius, and Severus are the only ones who can save it all." Round Robin story by four authors, written for the 'Granger Enchanted Survivors' Facebook group. NOW COMPLETE





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Our Round Robin group consisted of: Miss Fantastic, Jamies_Lady, mrs_helensnape and the_artful_scribbler. We decided to use both prompts we received, which were 'Hermione discovers a map between the pages of Beedle the Bard but after translating the runes, she's not so sure it's safe enough to go alone (Harry and Ron can't go, use a secondary character)' and 'when Voldemort unleashed a plague on the world, Hermione, Lucius, and Severus are the only ones who can save it all'.  
> Healer Hermione/Walking Dead idea.

****

Chapter One by

MissFantastic

****

Hermione looked out at the chaos raging.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.  They had been holding on, winning even. Death Eaters were kept at bay, away from the castle—her school, her home. 

Then the tide turned. She didn’t know exactly where it started, but it spread fast. It may have been the group of Snatchers. At first she thought they were Inferi, but they were too quick and strong. She almost hadn’t recognized Scabior heading the swarming mass. His skin had a greenish sheen and his eyes were milky white. His teeth and nails were longer, more jagged somehow. All of them moved so quickly, snarling, and grabbing anyone in their path.

Everyone began firing spells at these people, these things, but nothing stopped them for long. They kept coming, barely noting any injury. Hermione was too late to stop one from savagely biting into Kingsley’s neck and throwing the Auror aside as if he weighed nothing. Her mouth opened in a soundless, horrified scream when she saw Kings rise back up after a few moments, snarling and lurching with the others. He grabbed Tonks, who was too shocked at her friend’s actions to defend herself.

“Run!” Hermione managed to scream.

Harry was closest to her so she pulled him back. He hesitated, wanting to fight. But he didn’t understand yet, he hadn’t seen, so Hermione kept pulling. 

Hermione spied Ron firing spells at one, but the thing kept advancing. Harry noticed their friend and they went toward him.

“Run, Ron! Retreat!” she screamed, grabbing Ron’s arm, her wand clutched uselessly in her other hand. Hermione was running through every fact she knew. She wasn’t able to identify this infection and she couldn’t think of a spell to stop it, to stop them. 

“What the hell are they?” Ron shrieked, his eyes wide with panic.

“I don’t know, I can’t think here,” Hermione responded, not stopping. 

Harry fired off an Immobulus at the one following them. It slowed down for a moment, but did not stop.  Hermione led the way and the trio ran up a staircase, leaving the thing to find closer prey. She wanted to put as much distance between them and this new threat as possible. Harry pushed open a door and they found themselves in a classroom, panting, trying to catch their breath.

“It’s some kind of infection,” Hermione managed to say between gasps. “They bite and the bitten become them. Our friends…”

“What is it?” Harry asked, horrified.  “Ron, do you know?”

Hermione looked over at their friend, bent over and breathing hard. Being raised by Muggles, Harry and Hermione didn’t have the background information that Ron did. He just knew about things, old stories and folk tales told to Wizarding children that they took for granted.

“Ron?” Hermione repeated when the tall redhead didn’t respond. Maybe he was more hurt than he let on. She scanned him and saw a gash on his hand, blood dripping down onto his trousers.

Ron lifted his head and Hermione saw it, milky white eyes darting between her and Harry.

“No!” Hermione gasped, scrambling backwards. Harry looked at her, confused for a moment, and that was all it took. Ron’s hand darted out with a new quickness and he got a grip on Harry’s arm, his long fingers digging into Harry and ripping his clothing. His mouth opened in a snarl, long teeth dripping with silvery foam. Before Hermione could raise her wand, Ron’s teeth sank into Harry’s arm. 

Ron tossed their friend aside and she heard Harry land with a hard thud, shattering a desk.  Hermione kept backing up, not taking her eyes off Ron. He advanced toward her. She tried to keep desks between them, but Ron swatted them out of the way. Wood splintered around them and Hermione was running out of space. Finally, Ron lunged. Hermione grabbed a large piece of wood to keep something between her and this new version of her old friend. She tried to spring backward, bringing her feet up to Ron’s torso to push him away, but she wasn’t strong enough. As he landed on her, Hermione saw his white eyes go wide and heard a strangled gurgle in his throat. He became still.

Hermione looked down and saw that Ron had impaled himself on that broken piece of wood she held. Thick, sluggish blood seeped out of him. She froze, shocked, before pushing him off. Hermione didn’t know what to do. She pulled herself up, staring at her friend—one of her best friends. She looked down at herself. Her shirt was drenched in his blood and her hands were shaking. She tried to wipe her hands on her jeans, but there was so much blood.

Hermione heard something fall and broke out of her trance. She whipped around and saw Harry standing on the other side of the room. His glasses were gone and so was he. His white eyes were trained on her, focused, as he snarled. She wanted to scream, to weep. This couldn’t be happening. 

Looking around as quickly as she dared, Hermione saw her wand on the floor among the debris. She also noticed the teacher's office in this classroom and her mind began to formulate a plan. In one movement she snatched up her wand and another piece of wood in her other hand; then started backing toward that office. Harry snarled and watched her for a moment, not moving. She tried to get a good grip on the wood, which was about the size of a cricket bat. When her wand hand found the doorknob, Harry sped toward her at inhuman speed.

Time seemed to slow as she threw the door open. Hermione spun back into the small office and darted to the side. Harry followed her in, as expected, and she cast the Immobulus to slow him down. In that brief moment, she was able to bring the wooden bat down on his head, knocking him to the ground. He was recovering quickly, his long fingers scratching at the floor as he tried to get up. Hermione leapt out of the office, pulling the door shut behind her as Harry began to rise. She cast Colloportus to seal the room not a moment too soon. He raged and snarled on the other side of the door, throwing himself against the strong wood.

Hermione didn’t know how long it would hold him and began to back away. She had no idea what to do or how to fix this. She looked over at Ron’s dead body on the floor. This couldn’t be the end. She shook herself and clenched her jaw.  She had to figure this out. What good was being the smartest witch of her age if she couldn’t fix this?

Moving over to Ron, she pushed him with her foot, holding both her makeshift bat and wand at the ready. He didn’t move, but she had to make sure he was dead. Looking at him, Hermione noticed that his skin color was going back to normal. Gritting her teeth and holding her breath, Hermione knelt closer to him. The milky white had receded and his blue eyes stared, dead and unseeing, at the ceiling. Whatever this condition was, it wasn’t permanent. 

Hermione’s thoughts were interrupted by a particularly loud thud from the office. If she didn’t want to kill her other friend, she had to move. She cautiously proceeded to the hall, the sounds of snarling and screams still audible in the distance. The same thought kept repeating in her head—Ron's dead, Harry's sick. It was hard to think of anything else as she moved through the halls. 

Shaking her head cleared it a little. She needed help. She needed a way out. Hermione scolded herself; she knew this place better than anyone. Hadn’t she read 'Hogwarts: A History' hundreds of times? She had to be able to think of a way out.

Lost in thought, Hermione rounded a corner, but froze before she was noticed and slid into a shadow. In the hall ahead Severus Snape faced a group of Death Eaters. Two were on the floor not moving, one smoking slightly and the other in a pool of blood; but another two stood across from him, wands drawn.

Snape leaned heavily on the wall, one arm wrapped around his stomach. Underneath his arm, his black robe was wet and shone with what Hermione assumed was blood. His other arm, however, was raised; aiming his wand at the standing duo.

“We have to get out of here,” one of the wizards insisted. “We don’t have time for this traitor. Those things will cover every inch of this place soon and I don’t want to be here for it.”

“Lord Voldemort will control them,” the other wizard stated firmly, his eyes locked on Snape.

“I’m not risking myself,” the first one huffed, starting to edge away from the standoff. His partner hesitated. “Besides, Snape’s damaged enough. Leave him here and those things will get him.”

This reasoning seemed to convince the other Death Eater and the two of them took off.  As soon as they were around the corner, Snape slid down the wall to the floor.  Hermione rushed to him.

“Professor! I need your help,” she pleaded, scanning him over to determine how injured he was. 

“You must be joking, Miss Granger,” Snape said. His voice was raspy, but he still managed to be scathing. 

“We need to get out of here,” Hermione insisted. They didn’t have time to debate. There was no way she was going to continue on alone.

“We need to do nothing.  You need to leave this place.  Let me die in peace.”

“No!” she shouted at him, her voice shrill and pressured. Hermione couldn’t hold the wave of feelings that had been spinning around in her the last half-hour. “You are coming with me. You cannot leave me alone in this place. I will quite literally go mental. I’ve already had to kill Ron and I have to leave before I’m forced to kill more friends. I don’t know what this is, but you can help me figure this out. You have to. I need you!”

Snape stared at her for a moment, eyes wide. Hermione knew she must seem mad, but she was barely holding on. Snape was smart, he was strong. He could help her. 

“The Headmaster’s Floo,” he finally uttered. “But I can’t promise I’ll make it.”

Of course! Snape was the Headmaster. His office had a Floo, one of the only ways in and out of Hogwarts. The office should be inaccessible to anyone but him. Hermione wedged her shoulder under his good side and managed to get him into a near-standing position. She understood that her adrenaline was pushing her along, but Snape was clearly fading. His already-pale skin had a greyish pallor.

Dragging him down the hall was difficult and Hermione had to employ a lightening charm to get him up the stairs. The Headmaster’s office was down the hall on the third floor. They were so close and Hermione rushed. That was why she didn’t stop and listen before turning the corner. 

There were four of them. Four of those things, blocking the gargoyle entrance to the office. Hermione froze. There was no way she could get away, not with Snape. They turned and stared, snarling. Hermione was briefly relieved that she didn’t recognise any of them. That relief didn’t last.

“Go,” Snape said lowly, his voice barely audible.

“No,” she responded automatically. She wasn’t going to leave him to these…things. She wasn’t going to let it happen again, the way she had with Harry and Ron. She had to think of something. 

The infected began hurtling toward them. Hermione aimed her wand at the ceiling and used an Expulso to blast the stone. Large pieces rained down on the attackers. One was completely covered by the rubble and two seemed pinned. The fourth was trapped against the wall, but almost mobile. Hermione pulled Snape as quickly as she could, skirting the rubble now blocking most of the hall. They didn’t get far before two broke away from the stones and resumed their advance. At least the things no longer stood between them and the gargoyle. But there was no way she could get there before those things caught them. They were coming fast. 

Hermione pushed Snape behind her, toward the gargoyle still ten paces down the hall, shielding him with her body. She planted her feet and raised her wand, ready to defend them or die trying. 

All of a sudden a figure leapt from the top of the rubble pile, long blond hair streaming behind him. A sword in each hand, he did not hesitate to slice through the two things only steps from Hermione. One head flew cleanly off, spraying blood across them all. The other lost an arm, but his head quickly followed after another precise arc of metal swung through the air. Despite it being the goriest sight she had ever witnessed, Hermione was more shocked that Lucius Malfoy had just saved her life.

“You may as well put your wand away,” Lucius told her, pressing one of his swords into her non-wand hand. “Not many spells work on them. Ironic that Muggle methods work best in this situation, isn’t it?”

Lucius smirked at her before pulling a dagger out of his robe and turning back to the remaining one, nearly freed from the rubble and snapping at them. Hermione stood slack-jawed at the audacity of this man. Lucius stabbed the last one as Hermione turned back to Snape. Heeding the advice she was given, she pocketed her wand and kept a solid grip on the hilt of her new sword. She was able to heft Snape up slightly with her free hand, and Lucius was quickly there to help.

“I thought I might find you here, friend,” Lucius said, pulling Snape upright. Snape gave Lucius a weak grin. “We have to get out. More are coming. I didn’t think he would do it. The whole idea was madness, even for him, but he wouldn’t hear it.”

“Can Voldemort control them? Can he cure them?” Hermione interjected urgently.

“He thought he could, but that was hubris. They can’t be controlled. He learned that when they got him,” Lucius replied grimly. “He had a cure, a way to reverse it once he’d won, but he didn’t share it with anyone.”

“We have to get it,” Hermione stated firmly. She heard Snape snort derisively.

“She’s right,” Lucius said to his friend. He looked determined. “Narcissa is dead and Draco is infected.”

Hermione’s heart went out to the blond aristocrat for the first time ever. She recognized the set of his jaw, the near madness in his eyes. She never imagined she would identify with Lucius Malfoy so completely. She was sure he would do everything he could to fix this, to save his son; just as she would, to save Harry and her friends.

Snape appeared to process this information and nodded solemnly. He whispered the password and Hermione watched the gargoyle open. They would leave Hogwarts, heal Snape, and find a cure. They had to. There was no other option.


	2. Chapter 2

*****

Chapter Two by

Jamies_Lady

*****

 

"Here, Missy Hermione, nice hot tea," Daffodil handed over the fine bone-china cup and saucer. It seemed incongruous to Hermione that it was still the best china for a guest at Malfoy Manor, even with the monsters howling at the barrier that protected the ancient house. The little house-elf blinked and waited to see if the witch needed anything else before Master Lucius dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

"This might help you relax." He showed her the book in his hand.

Hermione took it, her tired eyes barely able to focus on the golden letters that shone in the last of the sunshine. An old—no, ancient, copy of  _The Tales Of Beedle The Bard_. Something she would have done almost anything to hold at one time. The price had been too high. A soft cashmere blanket was wrapped around her shoulders and the book laid in her lap.

"Snape is sleeping; I suggest you do the same.”

“Is he going to be alright?” she whispered. She could hardly stop thinking about her former Potions Master since looking at the memories he had given her when they first arrived at the Manor. “ _...Please...I may not...be with you...much longer...”_  he had murmured weakly, pressing the vial into her hand before she was expelled from the room in which he had been installed, soaked in blood and barely drawing breath. She would never, never look at him the same way again, knowing what she now knew...

“The elves gave him healing potions, and have actually sewed up the worst of the wounds,” Lucius's voice infiltrated her thoughts. “We are safe here for at least forty-eight hours."

She nodded, exhausted. The last hours had finally caught up with her and she was trying desperately not to cry.

"Come now, Miss Granger. We will need your brains and intuition come morning."

The thought that those words were the first nice ones Lucius had ever spoken to her echoed around her head as she fell asleep where she sat, cradling the precious book.

A particularly loud screech startled Hermione from her sleep, right in the middle of a weird dream. Dawn's early light barely illuminated the room.

"That was a peacock, they parade up and down the terrace," she was informed by a dry, sardonic voice.

"Professor Snape!" She sat bolt-upright, rubbing her eyes quickly, her heart jumping with gladness. Her first impulse was to leap out of her chair and throw herself at him—but that was immediately put paid to by his next snarky comment.

"There is no need to shout. I am right here, and not deaf."

She didn't say the 'not dead' on her lips. He had the look that threatened detention, even with the thick bandage wrapped around his throat, and instinctively she knew better than to bring up what he had shown her in his memories.

Hermione forced herself to calm down, and assumed a casual tone. "What's the latest?" she asked him.

"Dove Town and Hogsmeade have fallen. Magical London has been barricaded but it won't be long." He looked over the top of the scroll he was reading. "We will be safe here for a short time. The Walkers can't make it through the wards. Please do not snivel Miss Granger. We have a lot of work to do and little time to do it."

"What about the Muggle world?"

Professor Snape looked away for a few moments. "It's spreading. Their healers, doctors, are putting the deaths down to "bird flu", and having the bodies cremated quickly. Infected Muggles don't rise for at least forty-eight hours.

"Do we know what caused it?" she asked.

"A virus, a magical one. The megalomaniac thought it would make Muggles more co-operative. Zombies." Snape rubbed his brow. "Obedient like the Haitian ones. Instead he got Zombies from some poorly-made Muggle feature film."

"What's poorly made?" Malfoy swept into the room. Even with all that was happening, he still had to create a scene.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that a gentleman announces his presence?"

"I don't remember my mother telling me anything other than a Malfoy should never be overlooked."

"Humph!"

"We have to find a cure—we have to help Harry and Draco," Hermione barely spoke above a whisper but both men nodded at her statement.

"I have copies of all my notes, the ones I could steal, as well as those from when the Dark Lord had the researchers working here." Lucius snapped his fingers. "Gall, bring all the files marked 'Mr Sunday'."

The door flew open and files danced through the air and arranged themselves onto the table in the centre of the room.

"That's everything," Lucius said as the last small scroll fell into place. "It's little enough."

Snape passed one to Hermione, and took another for himself before settling back in his chair. It was how they stayed, all day, until the sinking sun turned the light in the room to a soft golden glow. The candles lit automatically, but the readers hardly noticed. The only change was that the mound of scrolls and parchments had moved from one table to another, via one of the almost-silent figures. There was an excruciatingly small pile on one side table.

"Merlin's Balls!"

Severus raised one eye brow. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor."

"It wasn't me!" Hermione cried. "That's not fair."

"I am not about to take points from Slytherin, am I?" Then Snape smiled at her. It was only a small smile, but it was definitely there.

Whatever Lucius was about to say stilled in his throat as an unearthly howl shattered the peace.

"They’ve found us. Don't worry Miss Granger, they cannot enter the grounds." He rose gracefully and looked out of the window. "How could one person be so foolish? So arrogant?"

Eventually they retired to their rooms. As the unearthly howls got louder and louder, Hermione found it impossible to sleep. She looked out of the window from the elegant bedroom she had been given, but could not see anything. The high hedges protected her from the sight of the Walkers. She climbed back into bed and picked up the book she had been given earlier. Reading always helped.

Despite a night-time of reading, Hermione looked surprisingly refreshed when she charged into the dining room the next morning waving the copy of  _Beedle The Bard_ _._

“Good morning, Miss Granger.” Lucius and Severus both stood as she entered. “Did you sleep well?”

Hermione shook her head, her unruly curls bouncing as she reached for the tea and toast. “Not a wink—but I did find something!”

Severus sat back down and peered at the book.

“What does  _Beedle the Bard_  have to say? Other than, “I have kept Miss Granger up all night”—?”

“There was a story. 'The Curse of The Misty Moor'. It mentioned the dead walking and...” She shuddered. “...And making the living into their image.”

“It's a story, Miss Granger.” Lucius barely acknowledged the little house-elf who refilled his tea-cup.

“So was the one about the Three Brothers, and there was truth in it. And Babbitty Rabbity. And what about the one about the Fountain?”

“A child's book.”

Severus lifted a single finger. “She has a gift.”

Hermione flicked through the book. “Here, look, there's a map.”

“I know this area.” Lucius studied the map carefully. “ We will have to fly. The ground is not safe.”

For the first time Lucius and Severus saw a look of pure terror on Hermione Granger's face.


	3. Chapter 3

*****

Chapter Three by

Mrs_helenesnape

*****

Lucius eventually had to hit Hermione with a Silencio. During other, more pleasurable pursuits neither he nor Severus would mind her being so vocal. The moment they kicked off the ground riding Lucius' fastest Firebolts, Hermione gripped Lucius in sheer terror and commenced screaming.

“Merlin's Balls! My ears are still ringing,” Severus shouted to his friend, who was flying in close formation, to combat the atrocious wind resistance at that altitude.

Lucius nodded in agreement and pointed in a south-easterly direction. “There, do you see that wide expanse of bog over there? Once we fly over, we'll see a firmer section of the clearing. We'll circle back and land there. Perhaps by then I can remove the Silencing charm from Miss Granger and dislodge her fingers from my liver.”

They had to nose-dive then pull up hard to keep from missing the clearing, or breaking their necks in the process. They hovered momentarily, so Lucius could remove the charm from Hermione. Once her voice was restored and they were firmly on the ground, Hermione lit into him.

“You ARSE! I was terrified the entire time, and you,” *whack* “couldn't,” *whack* “be,” *whack* “bothered,” *whack* “to,” *whack* “notice!” *whack*

“Miss Granger!” Lucius shouted at her while shooting a glare in Severus' direction for snickering at the witch's attack. “If you will kindly stop abusing me, you will see that we have arrived.”

“Is that...” Hermione stuttered. “Is that the Misty Moor from The Tales of Beedle the Bard?”

“Obviously,” Snape sneered sardonically.

“Well, Miss Granger. You've read the story. You know what should be done now,” Lucius said, urging her towards the closest edge of the bog.

“But I haven't cross-referenced the ritual! What if I'm reciting it wrong, or I'm not reverent enough to Hecate? What if I bollocks it all up and end up killing those infected, instead of curing them?” Hermione's voice continued to rise as her hysteria took over.

“Miss Granger!” Snape shouted at her before slapping her soundly across her face. “For Merlin's sake, get a hold of yourself.”

Hermione held her smarting cheek with her hand, willing the tears away, all the while glaring at her companions before bending at the waist to put her head between her knees. “Miserable bastard!” she grumbled before taking in a deep breath. “Arrogant arse,” she vocalized as she breathed out. After righting herself, she continued her glare. “I still don't understand why we couldn't Apparate.”

Lucius rubbed at the pain blooming between his eyes. “Would you really have wanted to risk those...creatures following our magical trail? Regardless of your discomfort, broomsticks were the only way to fly here safely. Unless, of course, you wished for Severus to teach you the modified Levicorpus.” At that comment, Lucius glanced at Severus and they barely contained their mirth at the thought of Hermione attempting to fly on her own, unaided.

“If you're both quite finished having fun at my expense, perhaps we should get started,” Hermione growled at them while still rubbing her stinging cheek.

“There is no 'we' to the ritual, Miss Granger,” Lucius stated matter-of-factly.

“The Dark Lord bastardized the original ceremony by performing it himself. His half-existence altered its results so greatly that there is no way Lucius or myself could participate in it. It's all up to you, Miss Granger. Merlin save us all,” Snape muttered the last bit to himself, but Hermione heard his snarky commentary anyway.

“And just how in the nine levels of Hell am I supposed to do that, huh? I'm wearing a robe, not a chiton—which is the only thing appropriate for calling on The Gods. Why, I'd have to do the whole ceremony...” Hermione's voice trailed off as she fully realised just how active her participation was going to get.

“Starkers.”

“In the altogether.”

“Au naturale.”

“In the buff.”

“NAKED?” she screeched. “You expect me to remove every single layer of my clothing, climb on the altar we have yet to erect, and chant for Circe knows how long? What will you both be doing while I do this? Watching?” Hermione's hysteria was rapidly making a comeback, her eyes wide and wild, the curls of her hair frizzing up, and small blue sparks of magic erupting from her fingertips.

“Of course we'll be watching...” Lucius began to say.

“Your front...I mean your back...damnit! I mean watching for those creatures. Once you begin the ritual, they will feel the call. Much like when the Dark Lord would summon us through our marks, they will feel the sting of you doing what you can to reverse their infection,” Snape told her.

“Regardless of what happens, you cannot stop or we're all as good as dead. Do you understand this, Miss Granger?” Lucius queried, hoping against hope that she finally understood the gravity of the situation.

“Hermione,” she told them simply.

“What?” they shouted at her simultaneously.

“You're both about to see me naked as the day I was born. You might as well address me by my given name, considering we are about to become intimately acquainted,” Hermione told them.

Hermione reached deep into her beaded bag and began removing the items she would need to set up a basic wooden altar. It wouldn't be nearly as elaborate as it should be, but she hoped that a bare-bones structure would be enough to appease Hecate into reversing whatever awful necromantic magic Voldemort invoked through her to create those zombie-like creatures.

After laying hands upon the altar, Hermione breathed deeply before she began removing her clothing.

Lucius and Severus couldn't help but admire her shapely form as she began exposing more and more skin. Quickly they turned away, not wanting Hermione to catch them ogling her during what was supposedly a time of reverence, honour and appeasement to the Gods for their assistance in ridding the world of the unholy terror Voldemort had wrought.

Hermione took her place on top of the altar, quickly looking at her companions to make sure they were doing what they said they would. After calling the Corners which paid homage to the various Watchtowers of the Earth, Air, Water and Fire, she began her chant. Pleading with Hecate would be the only way, and Hermione was determined to save as many as she could from the zombie-like half-life Voldemort had cursed the world into.

Hermione felt the sacred Earth magic begin to pulse in the area and through her as she continued her calls. Ripples were passing through her as she continued her motions, moving slowly on top of the precarious structure. She glanced at Lucius and Severus as she turned, seeing the magic flow through them as well.

It was only when Hermione got distracted by the magic pulsing through the men that she failed to notice all hell was breaking loose.

 


	4. Chapter 4

*****

Chapter Four by

Miss_Fantastic

*****  
  


Lucius and Severus were bathed in a golden glow of magic that sparked as they moved. It was calling to her, she wanted that magic. All of a sudden she understood, she needed them to do this. The wizards were intent on defending the ritual, swords at the ready and did not see Hermione’s hungry eyes on them. Hermione stretched a hand out to each, pulling as much magic as she could from the Earth and from the two wizards. The infected were coming and Hermione barely registered Severus stabbing one while Lucius sliced through another two. She was single-minded and focused on her task.    
  
“We three call Hecate,” Hermione shouted, barely recognizing her own voice. Her naked skin shone with the magic. Wind began to blow and her already unruly hair whipped around her. “Goddess of three moons, of everything between, we implore You.”  
  
Hermione felt a presence and knew the Goddess was there. And She was not pleased. Hermione felt Her ire in the wind that blew across her flesh. Hermione’s eyes fell on the infected that kept coming, a few at a time still, and understood the Goddess’ anger. This was a perversion to Her and Hermione fully agreed.    
  
“We are prepared to sacrifice, to atone, if you grant us the favor of undoing the wrong that was done,” Hermione begged. There was nothing that Hermione would not do to fix this.    
  
All of a sudden a ring of blue fire encircled the ritual space. The wall of fire was high, taller than where she stood on the altar. Hermione could see the infected, the walkers, on the other side. It was clear they could not breech this barrier.    
  
Severus and Lucius looked around in surprise, then up at Hermione for answers. But she had no answers to give.  
  
 _You must give yourselves to serve me._  
  
Hermione could see from the expressions on their faces that the wizards had heard the strong feminine voice as well. Lucius looked to Severus who nodded at the blond. Lucius closed his eyes for a moment, but then nodded at Hermione.  
  
“It would be an honor,” Hermione whispered, knowing She would hear.  
  
As soon as she uttered the words, Hermione was overwhelmed with need. She looked down from the altar at the wizards in front of her, hardly recognizing her feelings. She’d had a bit of a crush on Severus when he was her professor, but now she felt compelled to devour the dark, slender wizard. Her mouth literally watered at the sight of him. Similarly, she had long recognized that Lucius Malfoy was one of the most beautiful wizards she’d ever seen. But Hermione’s appreciation for his looks had never outweighed her dislike for the arrogant Death Eater. Now, however, she wanted to run her hands over every inch of his body. Her fingers twitched thinking about it.    
  
Hermione could not get down off the altar fast enough and the wizards appeared equally as effected. Severus’ intense stare bored into her as if he were unable to look away. Lucius was licking his lips and already pulling off his robe. Both were coming to her, focused entirely on her. Hermione had a fleeting thought that she should be a little nervous, but their intensity was not at all disturbing.  
  
“I still don’t like you,” Hermione said to Lucius, her voice breathy, as the wizards stood on either side of her.    
  
“You don’t have to,” Lucius replied as his mouth crashed into hers. She needed to kiss him, to touch as much of him as physically possible. Hermione pressed her tongue to his, needing to get even closer and Lucius groaned. The sound reverberated through her.  
  
Hermione felt Severus’ hand run down her back and over her bum. She sank into the lean wizard, pressing her body into him. Her naked skin brushed against the rough wool of his black frock coat. Hermione would be lying if she said she never imagined what was under that ever-present coat. And in that moment she couldn’t stand the coat, couldn’t tolerate anything that stood between her and Severus. She couldn’t stop kissing Lucius, but her hands tore at Severus’ clothing. Hermione ignored the sound of ripping fabric, but she couldn’t ignore Severus’ low growl.  
  
Severus reached down between her legs and slid his long, tapered fingers to her center. She gasped when he pushed inside her, breaking her kiss with Lucius. Severus’ growl had intensified as he moved his fingers. Looking between him and Lucius, Hermione was overwhelmed with lust. She pulled at Severus’ trousers because they were in her way. Lucius didn’t need any help, but had been disrobing since they started kissing.    
  
“Severus,” Hermione moaned. “I need you now, right this second.”    
  
Hermione wrapped her hand around her former professor’s shaft and Lucius lifted her up from behind. She leaned against the blond, relishing in the feel of his bare chest against her back, as Severus thrust inside her, her legs draped over his arms. It felt perfect, exactly what she needed.  
  
“So fucking tight,” Severus muttered as he drove in and out, hard.    
  
This was not a time for sweet and gentle. It was frenzied and rough. Hermione didn’t think; she wasn’t sure she could. All she could do was feel. She was pressed tight between the two wizards, panting as Severus moved. Lucius was behind her, holding her up as he licked and sucked on her neck. One of his hands held her arse while the other palmed her breast roughly. Hermione pushed the Severus’ coat off his shoulders so she could feel him, the tense muscles in his arms and shoulders. She ran her hands over him, rubbing and caressing every place she could reach. Hermione held the back of his neck and cupped his face in her other hand. Those black eyes locked on hers, so full of intensity.  
  
“Yes, Severus,” she hissed. “Fuck me hard.”  
  
Hermione was almost there. She had never come to orgasm so quickly in her life. Before she knew it, she was screaming her release. Her professor was mere moments behind her, shouting as he came inside her. They were still for a few seconds, but Hermione had no time to catch her breath. As soon as Severus pulled out, Lucius pressed her against the altar and pushed inside her. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back.    
  
“Oh fuck,” Lucius moaned, as if being inside her were a relief he’d been waiting ages for.    
  
Hermione ran her hands down Lucius back, relishing in the feel of him as he pumped in and out. She dragged her nails over his skin, hard, as she brought her hands back up. The blond hissed at her and began moving faster.  
  
“You like that?” Hermione purred in his ear before biting down on his earlobe. She had no idea where this was coming from. She had never fantasized about hurting anyone during sex before, but maybe it was her general dislike of Lucius Malfoy that made her want to mix pain with the pleasure. He didn’t seem to mind at all. When she sank her teeth into the base of his neck, leaving a deep purple mark, he threw his head back and shouted with pleasure.    
  
Lucius was pushing her hard against the rough hewn altar, but she didn’t care about the skin on her back in that moment. As with Severus, she found herself coming faster than she thought possible. As her orgasm crashed into her, she dug her nails into Lucius’ biceps, sure she drew blood. He quickly followed with his own climax, a string of curses and praises falling from his beautiful mouth.    
  
After a moment, Lucius pulled out and Hermione’s feet finally touched the ground. All three of them leaned against the altar, trying to breath.    
  
 _I am pleased._  
  
Without warning, they lifted into air and onto the unsteady altar. Hermione smiled at the wizards, who both had grins on their faces as well. Hecate was pleased and would grant their request. Then, they were all three bathed in a golden light. Hermione felt a powerful stinging sensation on her chest and back, but it was quickly gone. She looked down and saw a tattoo on her chest. It was a torch, a symbol of Hecate’s light. The fire flickered on her sternum and the handle of the torch went down between her breasts, stopping a short distance under them. Hermione looked over and saw a large bat across Snape’s chest, its wings spanned from shoulder to shoulder as it moved slightly. Lucius’ tattoo was a dark green serpent, slithering slightly across his chest.    
  
“Is there something on my back?” Hermione asked the wizards, since there had been stinging there as well.    
  
Both wizards leaned to look and Severus gave a sharp intake of breath. Hermione cursed her bag being down on the ground. She was sure she had a mirror of some type in that beaded bag.  
  
“An oak tree,” Lucius reported.   
  
“The tree of life,” Severus corrected. “The trunk runs up your lower back and its leaves fill most of your back. There is a full moon too, centered above the tree between your shoulder blades.”  
  
“Severus, you have a crescent moon on your back,” Lucius reported. “It fills the entirety of your upper back.”  
  
“You have that as well,” Hermione told Lucius, looking at the crescent moon that matched his friend’s tattoo. “But your moon is turned the other way.”  
  
“The three moons of Hecate,” Severus said, “New moon, full moon, and old moon.”  
  
“I’m hardly older than you are, only a few years,” Lucius griped. Severus rolled his eyes and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle.    
  
“But did it work?” Lucius asked, looking around.    
  
From their perch up on the altar, in the middle of a bog, they couldn’t see much. It was oddly quiet though. The ring of fire that had protected them during their frenetic couplings was gone. All Hermione could see was swamp and trees. All she could hear were insects and a random bird call.    
  
“Well, there’s only way to find out,” Severus snarked. “We can’t sit up here naked all day. Let’s go.”


	5. Chapter 5

  
*****

Chapter Five by

Jamies_Lady

*****

Hermione grabbed her jeans and pulled them over her hips. She might be able to feel the magic coursing through her veins, setting her blood and heart on fire but she was not meeting those creatures naked. Severus grinned as he handed her the remains of the blouse she had been wearing, before dressing himself with a wave of his hand. His own usually pale skin had taken on a darker, stronger hue.

"Show off," Lucius growled before using his wand to affect the same result. Hermione rolled her eyes at the two of them. She didn't know whether or not to tell them she could feel their deep affection for one another as though it was her own.

"Stop stroking your egos and look at those things." She pointed to the outer ring of the circle. It was alive with blue light, sparking whenever a walker touched it.

"Am I permitted to stroke you?" Lucius' normally cool grey eyes burned like molten mercury. The witch shuddered. The memories of his hands on her body were producing feelings she had never had before.

"Later, the pair of you," Severus snapped, shaking his head. "We have work to do."

He pointed to the ring of protection around the circle they had formed. "It won't hold forever. We have to act fast."

"Do you know how we do whatever we are supposed to do?" Hermione asked as she moved to his side. Lucius came to her other side to join them.

The rich tones of a voice echoed around them. “Other way around, boys.” They could hear the laughter echoing between them and Lucius and Severus swapped places.

With Lucius on her right and Severus on her left Hermione marched towards the bright ring.

"This is amazing! I feel as though the very earth supported us and is working with us, that the moon lighting our way. I could make the stars dance with a wave of my hand."

"Please don't. It took me long enough to learn where they are now, we do not need them rearranged by yet another intoxicated witch." Lucius smirked at her slightly bemused expression. "There are books on the topic. Draco told me about your unquenchable thirst."

"I bet it was more along the lines of the swot is never out of the library."

Lucius nodded once, and Hermione could see where the memory of his son haunted him,

"We will heal them." She laid her hand on his arm. “We will heal them.”

“Thank you.”

As one they moved forward, their steps matching, as though coordinated. When the trio got closer to the wall of light, and to the Walkers, milky eyes stared towards them. The dead eyes reminded Hermione of a shark, a killing machine with no remorse. The beings let out a low moaning sound, which echoed around the crags of the moor. The fog creeping down did little to lighten the oppressive atmosphere.

"I keep expecting to hear a wolf howl and organ music to start playing,"

Severus tried not to smile. "Too many late night horror movies, Miss Granger?"

"Mmhhm."

Hermione stopped just short of the barrier, which thickened noticeably, protecting her from the hands that reached towards her. Talons, encrusted with dirt and who knew what else, were stopped as the light condensed into a wall of light.

"I don't know what to do!"

"It's new for all of us, Miss Granger,"

Lucius laid a hand on her shoulder. As he did so, the light glowed even brighter, the wall became more solid and the Walker screamed in pain. The other creatures turned their faces towards him, The screaming walker took no notice of them, but tried to push into the light to reach the humans.

Severus pulled Malfoy back, "Don't be a Gryffindor, you idiot. They will rip you to shreds."

That was when he saw it. His Dark Mark was gone; erased from his forearm as though it had never been. Severus pulled at Lucius sleeve, much to the blond's obvious annoyance.

"Gone!" He exclaimed. "We're free!"

Lucius stared at his clean, unmarred skin. "My father forced that on me when I was fifteen years old. Now I am free."

He grabbed Hermione and kissed her soundly. "If you have given me nothing else, Miss Granger, you have made me free."

"We'll be free to be buried if we don't get out of here. You can molest each other later... now we fly."

Hermione kissed her old potion master's cheek. "You will be molested as well."

Severus blushed scarlet. "I am sure you would prefer a different lover, Miss Granger."

"Nope, I like getting caught between Oak and Willow. You are stuck with me."

"We will have to fly out of here, Miss Granger, despite your distaste for that mode of transportation.” As Severus spoke he swept Hermione up bridal style and cradled her into his arms, very securely in front of him on the broom. "You will be quite safe, Miss Granger."

"Hermione! My name is Hermione and of all people in this world you should call me Hermione."

"Hermione."

She shivered as he took her into the air, but kept her eyes tightly shut.

“Where are we going? Where's safe?”

“Prince Manor, it's the only place I can think of that will be impervious to the walking ones. I am the only living heir.”

The screams and howls from the Walkers could be heard far below them as the trio flew through the night sky.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

*****

Chapter Six by

the_artful_scribbler

*****

 

This time she wasn't afraid.

Sitting side-saddle on the broom in front of Severus, her arms wrapped tightly about his neck and braced securely by one of his own wiry, strong forearms, Hermione felt utterly safe. Serene.

Somewhere over the Irish Sea, with the last rays of the sinking sun turning the sea to a glittering expanse of molten gold, her serenity turned to exhilaration. The bracing wind, whipping through her hair and dancing over her skin, seemed to set her body, her very being, alight – and despite everything, despite the horror and terror of what had gone before and the anxiety of what was yet to come – Hermione could not repress a sudden urge to laugh aloud.

She half expected to hear Severus's sibilant voice inquiring what exactly she found so amusing about their current situation. But his only response to her irrepressible burst of mirth was a tightening of his arm about her, and a light brush of his lips upon her temple.

Lucius flew alongside them, his beautiful hair streaming out behind him in shining rivulets.

As the sound of her laughter reached him his head turned and their eyes connected, and Hermione felt the invisible nexus conjoining all three of them thrumming and trilling in approval and... anticipation? She flushed deeply and a flood of warmth coursed through her, as a distinctly primal need tugged at her insides, and dampened certain parts of her. Sweet Circe – or Holy Hecate, rather – how she wanted them , both of them. She needed them to complete her once more. Come hell, high-water or zombie apocalypse, she would be bedded by them again this night.

A second, slightly throatier laugh escaped her.

If someone had told her two days ago that she would be complacently balancing on a broomstick, cradled in her ex-professor's arms, almost dizzy with impatience to sleep with not only him, but also her school arch-nemesis's arrogant father... well, she would have not-very-politely advised them to check themselves in for an indefinite stay at the Janus Thickey Ward in St Mungo's.

"Landfall ahead!" Lucius's voice echoed across the dividing space, and he gestured to a point in the distant horizon where Hermione could just make out a sliver of emerald green. Both wizards immediately accelerated, and a measure of Hermione's former fear returned as they hurtled at break-neck speed through the ever-darkening sky.

Clinging more tightly to Severus, Hermione closed her eyes and buried her head in his robes, breathing in the pleasant mixture of aromas: pungent herbs mixed with sweet spices, a metallic smell which reminded her of heated cauldrons, and a deeper, less definable scent which was intoxicating, masculine, and made her body tremble and her pulse race.

They reached land as the long shadows of the evening were beginning to stretch over it.

Even dusk's dim hood could not disguise the wild beauty of the emerald isle, and Hermione's breath caught at the spectacular coastline which turned quickly to a landscape of sweeping meadow-land and swelling hills.

"How much further, Profes—erm, Severus?" She tried out his first name shyly, wondering if it would earn her a scowl. Surprisingly, the dark-haired wizard's mouth ticked up at the corners, and the harsh lines of his face softened.

"Another hour's hard ride," he murmured in her ear. Hermione shivered deliciously at the purring voice and ghosting breath tickling her sensitive skin, sending goosebumps all over her. Trying to ignore the double-entendres that instantly crowded her thoughts, Hermione wriggled closer to him.

It was almost dark by the time the wizards decelerated over a long stretch of pine forest.

Hermione could just make out the looming facade of a house which emerged from the thick of the dark woods like some great, twisted monument rising from a black sea. It appeared to be of a similar scale to Malfoy Manor, but where Lucius's house was all elegant lines and genteel architecture, the Princes' ancestral home looked more like a forbidding, extremely-gothic fortress.

Lucius called across to Severus, "Last one to land has genital spattergroit!" then immediately veered downwards and disappeared from sight.

"Hold tight, Miss Granger," Severus muttered in Hermione's ear.

"Don't you dare—" she screeched in horror, but her words turned into a cry of terror as the wizard suddenly nose-dived, plummeting towards the gated perimeter far below.

Screwing her eyes tight she clung on to Severus for dear life, vaguely registering that she was also screaming her lungs out.

"You can shut that always-so-active mouth of yours now, Hermione."

Her eyes flickered open to behold two pairs of amused eyes staring down at her. At some point they had, apparently, safely landed.

Hermione snapped her mouth closed, swallowing the remainder of her scream. It took her no more than three seconds to open it again. "I'm glad you two are so entertained by frightening a female half to death with your ridiculously juvenile pissing competition!" She jumped off the broom and stormed towards the gate. Turning irately back to Severus she snapped, "Well? Are you going to lower the wards any time soon, or are we going to stand here all night waiting for walkers to find us?" With a loud huff, she folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.

Manifestly unimpressed, Severus swiftly closed in on Hermione, a sinister glimmer in his black eyes, black robes billowing ominously around his booted feet. She shrank back under his withering gaze, and was even tempted to draw her wand defensively, but for the sound of Lucius chuckling somewhere behind him.

A long-fingered hand clamped around her arm, making her wince. "Miss Granger," Severus drawled warningly, "not even invoking all the gods' concerted protection will be able to save you from certain repercussions, if you take that tone with me."

She gulped and, in response to his tightening grip, she squeaked out a small, "Sorry, sir." The noun slipped out, out of force of habit, and her ex-professor's mouth curved in a baleful smile.

"Now, now, children," Lucius's suave voice was soon joined by his suave figure. "Let's save our little squabbles for another time, shall we?"

With an uncomplimentary sneer at the blond wizard, Severus released his hold on Hermione, and turned to face the great wrought-iron gate. Muttering a brief incantation he made a surprisingly elegant wand-movement, and there was a muffled sucking noise as the wards dropped. The gate creaked eerily as the trio entered the grounds, and then slammed shut behind them with a reassuring clang.

For a moment all three of them stood still, staring up at the towering structure before them.

"Charming place you've inherited, Severus," Lucius said drily, stepping up beside Hermione and drawing her arm through his. "All it needs is a few dementors to really carry the aesthetics."

"If I'd known you were staying, old man, I'd have had a kennel prepared," returned Severus, stationing himself on Hermione's other side, so she was comfortingly flanked by the two tall wizards. The markings on her torso tingled, and once again she was flooded with pleasurable, promising warmth.

"Well I think it looks wonderful, if you ask me," exclaimed Hermione, already salivating at the prospect of an extensive library sure to be crammed with obscure and ancient tomes.

"Nobody did, my dear," said Lucius.

With an irritable snort, Hermione tugged her wizards forwards, and together they made their way towards the iron-braced oak doors set into the massive walls of ivy-strewn stone.

…

"Bring refreshments to the library, please, Tarry, and then see that the three bedrooms in the east turret are ready for use."

"Tarry will be honoured to do Master Snape's bidding. Tarry is grateful to be of service to Master Snape and Master Snape's friends!" The huge, round eyes of the house-elf who appeared at Severus's command gleamed excitedly in the dim light of the hallway. "Master Snape and Master Snape's friends are welcome at Prince Manor!"

Her squeaky voice trembled with pleasure, as if she could conceive no greater happiness than fulfilling her master's requests. She disapparated with a resounding crack, which echoed around the lofty stone walls of the long corridor.

Hermione trailed behind Lucius and Severus, staring about her with a mixture of interest and awe.

So, this is the house of the Princes, she thought, scanning the many portraits of sallow, grim-faced witches and wizards who gazed down at her with apparent disapproval and mistrust. ...Severus's pureblood ancestors, on his mother's side. I can see where he gets his sunny, lighthearted disposition...

"If you have quite finished ruminating on where I get my dazzling good looks..."

Hermione blinked, and realized that Severus was standing beside a carved mahogany door which he was holding open, and through which Lucius had already disappeared.

Disconcerted as much by his sardonic smile as the accuracy of his words, Hermione began to stutter a confused reply. "I – I wasn't thinking that – I mean, not that I don't think you're good looking – erm, I mean I always rather fancied – ahem, but I mean I wasn't – I didn't – I..." she trailed off, flushing deeply. Realizing there was no earthly way to save that abortive mess of a sentence; she wisely shut her mouth and hurried over the threshold.

Hermione's mortification was swiftly replaced by an all-consuming wonder and awe, as she entered what was unmistakably the Princes' library.

Turning around and around in awe-struck circles, Hermione's eyes drank in the shelves upon shelves which seemed almost to groan under the weight of thousands – perhaps tens of thousands – of books.

Surely this library must even rival Hogwart's collection! she thought elatedly.

"I can practically hear your mouth watering, you inveterate little swot." Lucius took her wrist and guided her, as she continued to stare reverently about, over to a large leather-upholstered desk, and pressed her down into a chair.

Coming back to herself she saw that, in the time it had taken for them to walk down the hallway, Tarry the house-elf had already industriously provided the "refreshments" that Severus had requested.

Usually the thought of food and drink in a library would fill her with righteous indignation, but as soon as Hermione's eyes set on the spread of delicious food and steaming tea-pot, she thought she might actually faint with anticipation. How many hours since they last ate? It must have been almost an entire day.

Not waiting for formalities, she grabbed the closest edible item – a delicious muffin – and wolfed it down, then reached for a second with which to stuff her face. It wasn't until her cheeks were puffed out like a hamster and she was in the process of grabbing a third muffin, that she suddenly looked up and realised she was being watched from across the wide stretch of green leather.

Lucius and Severus never looked more similar than at that moment. The handsome blond and the harsh-faced brunet wore identical expressions of fascinated repugnance, with just a hint of indulgent amusement twitching at the corners of their mouths.

Shame-faced – well, as shame-faced as she could manage with her hamster cheeks – Hermione put the third muffin back and finished chewing and swallowing her mouthful with an nonchalantly exaggerated display of decorum. Then she very demurely poured out tea for them all.

After they had eaten and drank their fill, the tea-things were cleared away with a couple of spells, and the three turned their attention back to the task at hand.

"Maybe..." Hermione began hesitantly, "...maybe we should research a little more about our, ahh, rite to appease Hecate." She felt the blood rushing to her face, but continued determinedly. "I mean, evidently she has imbued us with the power revoke the Curse – but the question is how?"

 


	7. Chapter 7

*****

Chapter Seven by

Miss Fantastic

*****

 

_Six weeks later…_  
  
Hermione smoothed down her skirt, feeling much better after having relieved her tension and taken a break from the research. She smirked at Lucius, sprawled naked on the library couch and making no effort to move.    
  
The strange bond she had with Lucius and Severus seemed to have strengthened in the six weeks they'd been at Prince Manor. They explored the bond that had been created by the Goddess, easily feeling echoes of emotions from each other. Part of the connection they shared was very physical and expressed on a nearly daily basis.  They still disagreed, of course, as they were very different people. But they definitely understood each other better and were working as a cohesive team. The three of them agreed that the Goddess’ intention was to unite them so they could serve her.    
  
"I think I've narrowed down the last ingredient," Severus announced as he swept into the room. Lucius perked up at this and stood, not bothering to put his pants on. He really was quite the peacock, strutting around nude so often that neither Hermione nor Severus paid it any mind.   
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked eagerly.   
  
"Mandrake," Severus responded.  
  
Hermione's enthusiasm retreated. They had some infant Mandrakes potted in the potions greenhouse, but it would be months before they were mature. It had been risky enough to procure the stores they currently had, as the Walkers were thick on the ground. The international wizarding community had warded England, Scotland, and Wales.  No one was sure if the Walkers could swim, but foreign wizarding communities didn't want to take that chance. As it stood, an impressive magical barrier started about a kilometer away from the shoreline. None of the infected could get out, but neither could they. They were stuck. Hermione didn’t mind too much. They really had no intention to leave without finding the cure, but it did make getting supplies a bit more difficult.  
  
"It makes sense," Lucius nodded. Mandrake was common ingredient in antidote potions.  "How soon?"  
  
"Months," Severus conceded, breaking the bad news to his friend. Lucius looked a bit defeated, but rallied quickly.   
  
"That gives me more time to look then," he said firmly. His jaw was set.   
  
Hermione admired the aristocrat's resolve, not for the first time.  Lucius was the only one who left the Manor regularly, most days in fact.  Sometimes he would mount his broom with the excuse of doing security checks or reconnaissance, but he was looking for Draco. He was always looking for Draco.  Hermione suspected that he was engaging with the Walkers, testing which spells incapacitated them with minimal harm; but she didn't say anything. He could handle himself. When he returned particularly frustrated, she felt the effects of it in the bedroom, and in the lounge, the library, the bath, anywhere really. Sex was the thing that soothed them all in this trying time.   
  
"That’s wonderful news," Hermione smiled.  It would take longer than she wished, but if they could create a cure wasn't it worth any amount of time? "We should celebrate. Tarry, champagne please!"  
  
The Prince house-elf appeared after a few moments, always ready to be of service.   
  
Severus grinned and took the bottle. He and Hermione had been pushing themselves to find answers, often foregoing sleep or meals to follow promising leads. Between several tomes about the Goddess and texts on magical disease, two weeks ago they'd discovered a potion with nearly two dozen ingredients that seemed to be the answer. The ancient potion was written so cryptically, however, it took additional research to interpret the instructions and ingredients. Of course, they bickered and Hermione irritated her old professor often enough that he'd taken her over his knee, to their mutual satisfaction. Hermione found it so pleasurable that she needled the stern wizard on purpose from time to time, which they all knew but didn't feel the need to highlight.   
  
The dark haired wizard popped the cork and poured the bubbly liquid into the glasses she and Lucius held out.  The sharp, sweet smell of the drink seemed to hit Hermione like a wave and she ran for the closest toilet. She barely made it to the loo in the hall before she lost her lunch, as well as her breakfast it seemed.  Long, nimble fingers held her hair back. When Hermione looked up, it was clear Severus and Lucius were both suppressing an urge to flee.   
  
"What's wrong with you?" Lucius asked sharply.   
  
"I'm sick I suppose." Hermione glared at the blond.   
  
"We certainly don't need you falling ill now," Severus scolded. Neither wizard was the warm and fuzzy type, clearly.   
  
"Oh, in that case, I'll just skip the illness I clearly planned to have," she responded sarcastically. Both wizards narrowed their eyes at her, neither appreciating her tone. If she felt better Hermione would've enjoyed Severus' disapproval and subsequent punishment. But as it was, she was just well and truly annoyed.   
  
Hermione stood to get away from them, but dizziness set in and her vision grew fuzzy. 

  
  
***

  
Hermione woke up in her bed, tucked under her covers. Severus sat on her left, looking irritated, while Lucius was to her right, smiling like a loon.   
  
"Did I faint?" She finally asked, a bit shocked and embarrassed. She was Hermione Granger! She faced trolls, endured tortured, went to war, battled zombies - she didn't faint!   
  
"You did,” Lucius informed her, still grinning entirely too much.  
  
“What is funny about that?” Hermione grumped, offended. While they weren’t friends in the traditional sense, they had a bizarrely close relationship and she was put out at the idea that he enjoyed her feeling ill.  
  
“I ran some diagnostic spells on you while you were out,” Severus said, clearing his throat. Hermione could tell he was uncomfortable. She felt traces of his anxiety and irritation, which combined with Lucius’ glee, was maddening. “It seems you’re pregnant.”  
  
Hermione was shocked. Pregnant? No. She couldn’t possibly be. Well, I mean it was definitely possible. Since the ritual to Hecate, she’d been having sex frequently. Still, it wasn’t possible!  
  
“But I’ve been casting the contraceptive charm daily!” Hermione wailed.    
  
“Not the first time,” Lucius smiled. Hermione just gaped at him. He was right. “I’ve always wanted more children. This is very exciting.”  
  
“You wanted children that were half mudblood?” Hermione challenged. A part of her recognized she wasn’t being fair. Lucius had treated her with nothing but respect these last six weeks, but in that moment she didn’t care. She wasn’t ready to be a mother and the timing couldn’t be worse.  
  
“Children are always a gift, any children,” Lucius responded evenly. “I can feel that you are overwhelmed right now, so I will just remind you to watch your language. That word isn’t ladylike.”  
  
Hermione looked to Severus. Surely he would take her side. The snarky wizard was famous for disliking children. And he wasn’t feeling joy at their predicament.   
  
“I can’t believe this,” Severus groused. Hermione nodded, eager for an ally. “I should’ve seen this coming! You have a tattoo of the bloody tree of life and full moon filling your back! We’ve seen you naked often enough, symbols of fertility right in our faces. The Goddess intended this from the beginning; that much is clear. This is meant to be.”  
  
Hermione huffed. Severus wasn’t irritated that she was pregnant after all; just that he didn’t realize it until now.  
  
“How did you not realize this?” Severus challenged her.  
  
“I don’t know!” Hermione admitted. “My cycle isn’t always regular when I’m stressed and the last six weeks have certainly been stressful. I’ve been tired, my appetite’s been up and down; but I thought that was due to the unpredictable schedule we’ve been keeping. I can’t be pregnant!”  
  
“You are,” Lucius smiled, sliding closer to her and running a hand up and down her thigh. He was looking at her a bit reverently, which was disconcerting. “You are carrying a gift from the Goddess herself. Our children will be amazing.”  
  
“Children?” Hermione managed to chirp out.   
  
“The scan showed two children,” Severus reported, a small smile gracing his face. He also moved closer to her, a hand sliding over her belly.   
  
“One from each of you,” Hermione whispered. It was a lot to process, but with them touching her in that moment it didn’t seem entirely daunting and a feeling of acceptance settled on her. “I’m going to get so fat.”  
  
Severus snorted and rolled his eye while Lucius laughed aloud.    
  
“Not fat, pregnant,” Lucius corrected. “And it will be glorious. We will take care of you. In fact, I’ll start now.”  
  
Lucius dove under the covers, his face between her thighs. Hermione groaned at the feel of his tongue. She looked to Severus and he gave her a solemn nod. He was never as vocal as his friend, but Hermione understood. She could feel his steadfast resolve and the beginnings of excitement. Knowing she would be giving this lonely wizard family made her feel warm inside. The silent exchange complete, Severus’ gaze became lustful and he set to kissing her until she couldn’t think straight.

 

***

  
_Twenty-eight weeks later…_  
  
“I think we’re ready,” Hermione reported, idly rubbing her back. Severus’ strong hands replaced her own and took over the massage.    
  
At this point, nearly eight months pregnant, Hermione was more uncomfortable than she had ever been in her life. Lucius and Severus were nothing if not attentive. They took it upon themselves to administer back and foot massages, to rub lotion into her stretched skin. She knew that pregnancy made some women hypersexed, but was not prepared to experience it herself. Some days she felt she would tear the arms off anyone that tried to touch her. But other days, she wanted to tear the clothes off of her wizards and have her way with them. Neither Severus nor Lucius seemed to mind this one bit, even when they had to get creative with positioning to accommodate her increasing size. Hermione couldn’t believe they found her sexy in her state, but she couldn’t deny it was true because she could feel it from them.  
  
“I agree,” Severus responded. “The Mandrake are mature and we have everything else ready.”  
  
It was a complicated potion, but Hermione was confident. The three of them had gathered and prepared everything in advance as much as possible. They’d had months after all. They’d pulverized sea salt to a fine dust, dried basil, made gallons of rose water under the full moon, and shredded enough willow bark to deforest a hillside. It appeared that a small amount of the potion, in an aerosol and breathed in by the infected should be curative.    
  
Lucius had the idea to create a small batch to test first, which Hermione wholeheartedly agreed with. Neither of them wanted to try the potion on a loved one, only for it to have an adverse reaction. Over the months Lucius had nearly perfected capturing and detaining the Walkers. He and Severus had created a prison of sorts not too far from the Manor. The realized that if you left two in a room, they would maul each other horribly, so then kept them separated. The infected didn’t need much to be sustained, because the disease kept them going.    
  
Hermione hadn’t been to the prison because neither of her wizards would let her near it in her condition. They were frustratingly protective at times and she had to remind them that she was pregnant, not disabled. In truth, she didn’t want to see the infected. She knew Lucius picked up people she knew, her friends, as well as others and she didn’t want to see them in this state. She didn’t even want to know who he’d captured until she was able to actually help them. Lucius did tell them when he found Draco only a few weeks before. It was hard for him to see his son in this state. Hermione could feel his horror and despair. She spent that night rocking him to sleep. Then she and Severus held him while he slept. Whenever they would let go, Lucius became fitful.    
  
“When you’ve harvested the Mandrake, we can get the final ingredients,” Lucius nodded. They were all ready to have this work.    
  
There was the matter of a few perishable ingredients that they couldn’t prepare ahead of time. The potion called for “blood from one pure, one between two worlds, and one outsider that has come in.” It took a bit before they realized they needed blood from a pureblood, a half-blood, and a muggleborn. No one thought it was a coincidence that the three of them happened to meet those criteria. Similarly, when they read that they needed “one hair light and one hair dark from the Goddess decreed ones”, it seemed obvious that Lucius and Severus needed to donate one hair respectively to the potion.    
  
They worked nearly in silence, not needing words to communicate. They all knew what needed to be done. The brewing was done and the potion complete by the next morning. Severus bottled it and the trio began the short trek to the prison area.  
  
“I’ve selected a volunteer to test this,” Lucius told them, grinning. “She’s in the first room, so we don’t have to see the others today.”  
  
“She?” Hermione asked, appreciating that he wanted to spare her from seeing her friends.    
  
“You’ll see,” Lucius smirked.    
  
Upon approach, Hermione could see that very thick bars were needed to contain the infected, in addition to magical wards. When they got closer she saw the small, squat form of what appeared to be a female. Hermione almost didn’t recognize her, but the tattered pink cardigan was the give-away.    
  
“Umbridge,” Hermione hissed. Her eyes narrowed at the evil little witch who snarled and reached her clawed hands toward them.  
  
“What if the potion works?” Severus drawled, sneering at the witch. “Her current state may be an improvement, comparatively speaking.”  
  
“It may be,” Lucius chuckled. “But I couldn’t resist. She was always propositioning me, the repellent witch. I thought we should try this one someone where we won’t be upset if it doesn’t work.”  
  
Hermione nodded her agreement and Severus lifted the potion. Umbridge was pressed up against the bars, trying to reach them, so it wasn’t difficult to spray the potion in her face. The infected witch staggered back and began to change. Hermione watched excitedly. Something was certainly happening. Umbridge’s talons began to retreat and her skin was losing it’s greenish tinge. Hope filled Hermione as Umbridge’s white eyes returned to their previous brown. She looked nearly herself again and a large gasp wracked her short, round body. With that gasp, she fell to the ground, eyes open and not moving. She was dead. Hermione’s hope was gone and she felt defeated and cold. Arms wrapped around her to hold her up, otherwise she was sure she wouldn’t just fallen where she stood.

  
***

  
  
“It should have worked!” Hermione insisted, pacing in front of the fireplace in the lounge.    
  
“And you should be sitting!” Lucius insisted. “You almost fainted out there.”  
  
Hermione waved her hand at him dismissively. They had to figure this out. She was hardly pacing quickly at any rate. She could only waddle as it was and moving helped her think.    
  
“We can look over the ingredient list again, but I can’t think of anything that may be incorrect,” Severus added. He was sitting and watching her pace, his brow furrowed in thought.    
  
“Maybe our interpretations of the obscurely identified ingredients were wrong,” Lucius offered, sinking into a chair next to his friend. He seemed to give up on making Hermione stop.  
  
“The Goddess chose us for this because we could create this potion, the three of us together,” Hermione reported, thinking aloud. “It was our blood. And the light and dark hairs of the Goddess decreed, who else could that be but the two of you?”  
  
Hermione looked at the wizards, but Lucius shrugged elegantly while Severus deepened the furrow in his brow. She groaned in frustration and stomped a foot, quite childishly really. She felt a strange pop inside her and then trickle of wetness down her leg.    
  
“I think my water just broke,” Hermione gasped, staring at the wizards, eyes wide with panic. How could this be happening now when they had a potion to fix?


	8. Chapter 8

*****

Chapter Eight by

the_artful_scribbler

*****

  


_"I HATE YOU, LUCIUS! ARRRRGGGHH! WHH!—WHH!—WHH!"_

Hermione's face was a picture of beetroot-coloured fury, as she stormed and raged at the blond wizard kneeling to her right side. She was stark naked, half-lying back on a narrow bed well-stocked with supporting pillows, her knees drawn up and spread wide, an anxious wizard on each side of her.

Lucius ineffectually attempted to comfort her through a series of agonizing contractions. "Try to calm yourself, darling," he suggested, tentatively mopping her sweat-soaked brow like a man hazarding to pat an enraged hippogriff. "Just...breathe."

_"WHAT THE FUCK—WHH!—DO YOU THINK—WHH!—I'M DOING?...NNNGGG!"_

"Perhaps you should hold your tongue, Malfoy," snarked Severus from the other side of the bed. "Since you cannot seem to find anything to say but the patently obvious."

"AND YOU!" Hermione savagely turned her head to glare at her other wizard. "I HATE YOU TOO!" She took a huge breath and uttered a long scream, throwing her head back and writhing in pain. " _I HATE YOU BOTH EQUALLY!_ " And then she burst into panting sobs.

Lucius and Severus exchanged a glance which was far more suggestive of two guilty school-boys than two powerful, full-grown wizards.

"Mistress Hermione must ignore Master Severus and Mr. Lucius," said Tarry from the business end of the bed, throwing an extremely unservile frown at the pale-faced men. "Master Severus and Mr. Lucius are stupid, ignorant, insensitive brutes. Tarry will help Mistress Hermione. Tarry understands."

To the utter outrage and chagrin of the wizards in question, Hermione turned a weak and grateful smile on the little elf. "Thank you, Tarry," she whispered tearfully.

Tarry began to grumble loudly about pain-killing potions, fortifying wines, and anaesthetizing charms.

"We've been through this, Tarry," said Severus sharply. "We cannot risk interfering with the powerful magic with which Hecate imbued these...lives...at their conception."

"'Lives'?!" shouted Hermione lividly. "They're called babies, Severus!— _whhh!_ —BABIES! You HAVE heard the term, haven't you?— _whh!-whh!-whh!_ —Because there's TWO of them, which,— _whh!_ —no thanks to you,— _WHH!_ —are now trying to come out of my vagina-aa-aaaARRRRRGHHH!" Her body lifted almost off the bed as another painful contraction crashed over her.

Severus muttered an apology, his ashen face draining almost to whiteness, and Lucius bit his lip to resist offering any more ill-chosen words of advice. Both men threw a longing glance at a small table on the other side of the room, on top of which sat a large decanter of fire-whiskey, glinting beckoningly in the candlelight. Hermione's eyes narrowed through her painful gasps, wordlessly making it clear that if they so much as took the smallest step towards it she would hex them into oblivion.

Wisely, the pair of wizards decided the best course of action from now on would be a meek and silent one, although this tacit resolution did not save them from a comprehensive, pant-punctuated tirade on the general uselessness of the masculine half of every variety of species inhabiting the earth.

Hermione's cries began to come thicker and faster, until, finally, she stopped her scolding lecture and simply screamed and screamed.

"Mistress Hermione must push now!" Tarry's squeaky voice commanded with surprising authority. "PUSH!"

Lucius and Severus gripped their witch's hands as she heaved forwards with a roar of determination, every muscle strained, blinded by sweat and tears, pushing for all she was worth... and then, quite suddenly, there was another voice in the room: the small, high, unmistakable cry of a newborn infant.

Falling backwards with great gulps of relief, Hermione could hear Tarry busily incanting detaching, cleaning and swaddling spells. It only took a matter of seconds before the house-elf addressed her master.

"Master Severus may approach and hold his son." It was more of an order than a request, and vaguely Hermione registered her hand being momentarily squeezed in a crushing clasp, and then abruptly relinquished. She only had time to hear Severus say, in a dazed, almost astonished, voice, "He is...beautiful," before yet another powerful contraction ambushed her.

The following few minutes passed in a blur of wracking pain and pressure, made somehow bearable by the background snuffles and cries of her newborn son. She focused in on this single sound and let all other conscious thought fall away, unaware of the voices around her, urging her to push, push, push!; unaware of her own throat-shredding shrieks, and the heaving contortions of her body; unaware of anything except the single emblazoning thought: that is my son crying. My son.

And finally, it was all over. The pain and pressure was gone, and Hermione sunk down, exhausted and relieved, against the sweat-drenched pillows. A second feeble cry, faintly higher in pitch, joined the first, and for a moment the room was silent save for the sound of this mewling duet.

Soon Tarry addressed the second wizard. "Mr. Lucius may also approach and hold his daughter."

Lucius practically bolted to the end of the bed, and, through half-closed eyelids, Hermione watched the tall man gather the tiny bundle—already tended by the industrious house-elf—to his chest, a ridiculous, besotted smile plastered all over his handsome face. It could almost, almost be described as goofy.

Severus, likewise, was holding a bundle, but with the awkward reverence of a first-time father who had never had anything to do with babies in his life. A kind of beatific radiance softened his habitually grim expression, and in that moment he looked to Hermione as equally beautiful as his blond friend.

Hermione was too tired to feel anything except a sense of perfect rightness.

The wizards came forwards together to kneel at her bedside, each presenting their precious burthen.

"Our daughter," said Lucius, somewhat boastfully.

"Our son," whispered Severus, with infinite wonder.

They were...incredible. They were tiny, beautiful, perfect beings which she had grown. Their magic had flowed tangibly through her for eight amazing months, like shimmering electric currents coiling and humming in sympathy with her own intrinsic power. Their life-forces had already bonded inseparably to hers, invoking an infinitely-more-powerful, mysterious and protective kind of magic—the sacred love of motherhood.

Hermione realised then that she was crying, pure, joyous tears. She reached out to take first one little person, then the other, tucking them under her arms to nuzzle against her bare breasts. Immediately the babies latched on and began suckling greedily.

"They're so beautiful it almost hurts to look at them," Lucius said, a catch in his usually-so-silken voice. "Like looking into the sun." Ordinarily, such sentimentality would have been rewarded with a snarky rejoinder from Severus, but this time his silence spoke his complete concurrence.

"Helios...and Selene," murmured Hermione, her voice still gravelly from screaming.

"The sun and moon," Severus said quietly. "Yes."

Hermione smiled at her wizards. "I'm sorry for yelling at you before," she said. "I don't hate either of you. In fact, I...I love you both." It was the first time she had said so aloud, and the words trembled as they left her mouth.

"And we love you," said Lucius, leaning forwards to softly and oh-so-sweetly kiss her lips.

"All three of you," added Severus, reaching down to caress their babies' round, pink cheeks wistfully.

A tiny fist emerged from Helios's loose swaddling to curl around his long finger, and when it unclenched the dark-haired wizard caught the little hand and turned it palm-upwards. "Look," he said. There, in the centre of the tender pink flesh of the baby's right palm was a tattoo-like depiction of a flaming torch. Reaching over to Selene, Severus unfurled the delicate fingers of her left hand, revealing an identical mark.

"Twin torches," said Hermione. "The symbol of Hecate."

She gazed down at the wet tufts of snowy-white and raven-black hair plastered respectively to the two little heads, and instantly something clicked in her mind. "The Goddess-decreed ones," she gasped. "Of course!"

The wizards caught on immediately, and all three of them quoted in unison. "'One hair light and one hair dark'."

"The book wasn't referring to us," said Lucius, looking at Severus. "It meant—"

"Our children," Severus finished the sentence. He appeared to have regained his composure, and one black eyebrow arched sardonically, as if in appreciation of some private joke. "Well, well, well. I do believe we have discovered the missing ingredient for our potion."

 

…

 

"Stand still, Lucius," Hermione said irritably. "You're distracting me!"

The blond wizard had been pacing back and forth like a caged tiger while Severus and Hermione completed the final steps of the potion they had spent so many months researching and testing—and which had cost them so many bitter pangs of disappointment.

Helios and Selene lay tucked up and fast asleep in a crib a few feet away, well guarded against the unlikely possibility of an accidentally-exploding cauldron by a powerful barrier of protective enchantments.

Severus hadn't spoken for the best part of three hours, so concentrated was he on concocting the potion correctly. His face was shiny with sweat, his black hair clung to his sallow cheeks, and his eyes were underscored with dark hollows. Silently and deftly he added each component, then simmered, heated, cooled, and added some more.

Hermione stood by his side, preparing the ingredients—pulverising the salt, basil and asphodel root to a fine paste in her pestle, measuring out the required units of rose-water, and counting out the pieces of willow-bark, valerian sprigs and bryony petals. She had just started on finely dicing the all-important mandrake root when Lucius's restless movement had caught her eye.

"It's taking longer than usual," griped Lucius, with obvious agitation. "Why is it taking so long?"

Hermione bestowed on him a withering look. This was exactly why he had been banned from helping. His impatience to cure Draco was affecting his judgment and could compromise the whole process.

"It's taking this long, because  _it takes this long_ ," Hermione replied, with sweetness bordering on sarcasm. "If you can't think of anything constructive to do, Lucius  _darling_ , why don't you ask Tarry if there's some housework you could help her with?"

Lucius scowled, and stalked off with many a disgruntled mutter about impudent young chits of girls.

Hermione conjured a dry towel and wiped her face, then took a sip from her glass of water. She knew better than to break Severus's concentration by offering him one.

She watched him stir the bubbling brew with rhythmic precision. He had a wonderfully instinctive lightness of touch, constantly adjusting the temperature and monitoring the consistency, adding each ingredient at just the right moment with an assurance that seemed truly masterful. She felt a wave of admiration and respect for the man, which was quite separate from her love for him as her partner and father of her son. In some ways, he would always be her professor, her teacher—someone to look up to.

Of course, she looked up to Lucius in quite a different way. His over-protective and rather condescending manner often irritated her, and his arrogance and selfishness had by no means disappeared with his former prejudices. But his anxious, fierce love for his sick son, and the way he doted on the two babies, was really very endearing. Not to mention he had the body of a Greek god, and wasn't afraid to display it.

Strangely, their triad relationship perhaps worked better than if she had been coupled with only one of them. The wizards acted as a foil to each other—Severus's introverted and sometimes despotic nature was balanced and lightened by Lucius's naturally charming humour, which in turn was prevented from turning into levity by the other's studiousness. And they even acted as a physical buffer between her and whichever one she was arguing with—which happened rather often—if things became overly heated. And they were really both fantastic in bed. Lucius was a tender and generous lover, whereas Severus's love-making was deeply intense and emotionally requiring. Both of them were intuitive to her desires and indulgent to her whims...oh yes, they both fulfilled her needs very nicely.

"Concentrate," Severus growled.

With a start, Hermione reined her thoughts back to the task in hand. She blushed scarlet. Here she was, contemplating the, ahem, ins and outs of her incredible sex-life, when the fate of her friends and compatriots—possibly, of the entire world—was at stake.

"Sorry," she whispered, and quickly finished slicing up the mandrake root, depositing it into Severus's extended and waiting hand.

They were so nearly finished; just a few, pivotal steps to go.

She watched the wizard scatter the pieces of root into the roiling liquid, and the brew changed from a deep purple to a translucent silvery colour. Quickly she unstoppered the vial containing their mixed blood—the "blood from one pure, one between two worlds, and one outsider that has come in"—and handed it to him.

Reducing the temperature to a low simmer, Severus added three drops with unfailing accuracy, and they both watched in silence as the red streaked through the silver, and the whole mixture began to fizzle and turn pink.

With a sigh of relief, they both took a step back from the table. Severus turned his dark eyes to her. "Now, Miss Granger, we wait," he said.

Hermione nodded, too tired to even bother chastising him for reverting to her school name. She reached up and pecked his cheek, and was rewarded by one of his so-rare, and therefore so-precious smiles.

The final ingredients lay beside the cauldron, to be added at the stroke of midnight, under the light of the full moon. Two tufts of downy hair, one inky black, the other pure white, carefully snipped from the heads of the peacefully sleeping “Goddess-decreed ones.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

*****

Chapter Nine by

the_artful_scribbler

*****

 

Waiting for midnight to arrive could have been a torturously slow business, if not for Lucius.

Sometime during the afternoon, Hermione noticed that he hadn't returned from his huffish flounce-out earlier that morning. Feeling a little guilty for her snippiness, she went to seek him, to let him know that the potion was apparently a success, and maybe indulge him in a little ego-stroking in the interim hours until it was ready to complete.

But there was no sign of the blond wizard. He wasn't in his usual haunts—not the library, not his bed-chamber, nor the billiards room where he spent rather a lot of time playing against Tarry, who he had once engaged in a match, in a fit of boredom, and discovered in her an unexpectedly formidable adversary. He was simply nowhere to be found.

Finally, Hermione went back to the children's bedroom, where Severus lay, sprawled out on a chaise-longue beside their bassinet. All three of them were fast asleep. After so many hours of deep concentration this morning, Severus was understandably exhausted, and she hated to disturb him. But she was beginning to get very worried.

“Severus,” she whispered to him, gently prodding his arm, “have you seen Lucius since this morning? I can't find him anywhere, and I'm getting a little concerned.”

The dark-haired wizard did not so much as crack open one eye. “No,” he replied, his voice thorny at having been woken up for such a question. “Have you checked every room containing a mirror?”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, followed by a horrible screeching and snarling noise coming from the hallway.

Instinctively, Hermione jumped in front of the bassinet, whilst Severus leaped to his feet, putting himself protectively between all of them and the door.

Hermione's heart thudded madly. Only one thing could make such a blood-curdling noise—a Walker.

“Oh god!” she whispered, “Have they broken the wards?”

“Impossible,” Severus replied grimly, but he gripped his wand tightly nonetheless. “Unless...”

Hermione gasped. “ _Lucius?_ ” Hermione felt nauseous at the idea that one of her wizards might have been ambushed and turned—that he had become one of _them_...

“Stay with the children,” Severus muttered, swiftly heading out to the hallway, his wand brandished before him.

Hermione cast as many protective charms over Helios and Selene as she could think of, all the while wincing at the awful noises coming from the outside the door. For a moment the growling became even louder and more frenzied, then there was a loud thud and the noise abruptly stopped. She heard men's voices—two men— _her_ two men—and she breathed a huge sigh of relief. Lucius had _not_ been turned.

Rushing headlong out into the hall, she skidded to a halt and gasped at the sight that met her eyes. There, on the floor, a Walker lay prone, gagged and tied with many ropes. Despite the milk-white eyes and ravaged features, somehow she just _knew_. “Oh my god! It's him, isn't it? You found him!” And then she burst into gulping sobs. “Harry! Oh, Harry!”

She raced forward, ready to hurl herself at her friend, but was prevented doing so by two sets of strong hands, dragging her back.

“ _Foolish_ girl,” Severus snapped acerbically as she writhed in resistance. “Do you wish to get infected too?”

Lucius spoke more kindly, though his hands were no less inflexible. “That isn't Harry,” he reminded her gently, “—not _yet_ , at least.”

She knew they were right, but it didn't prevent her from resenting it. “Heartless bastards!” she hissed. But then, almost in the same moment, she turned and fairly flew into Lucius arms, kissing his face over and over, like a boisterous puppy. “Oh my god!”—kiss—“Lucius!”—kiss— “I thought you were done for!”—kiss—“I thought we lost you!”—kiss—“I'm sorry for being so snippy!”—kiss—“I'll never be mean to you again!”—kiss— “never, I swear!”

Amusement curling the corners of his mouth, Lucius attempted several times to unlatch her arms from his neck, then finally he resorted to subduing her by bending over her and imprinting on her mouth a long, deep, oxygen-stealing, knee-weakening kiss.

“If you're _quite_ finished,” Severus's dry sardonic voice filtered through the dizzy haze that had descended on Hermione, “we have to take our...er, _patient..._ to the cells before he manages to gnaw through these ropes.”

…

They put Harry into the cell next to Draco.

It was the first time Hermione had entered the Walkers' prison and the noise and stench of the twenty-or-so captives was ungodly, making her ears ring and her stomach heave. But she refused to allow her horror and disgust to show—she had too much respect for Lucius's feelings. She could see his jaw muscles tighten and his body tense as they passed by Draco's cell. Casting a furtive glance inside, she almost sickened at the sight of the previously-handsome young man, reduced to a slavering, emaciated abomination. He might have been a thorn in her side all through school, but she wouldn't wish such a fate on her worst enemy.

She could barely imagine the hell Lucius must be going through, having to see his son like this. Motherhood had given her a new perspective on what one would do for one's children—anything and everything. Lucius might not have always made the _right_ decisions for his son, but there was no denying that he loved him as deeply and fiercely as it was possible. She suspected that Lucius felt as if this were somehow his punishment for his participation in the Dark Lord's cause, and he would never truly forgive himself until he saw Draco restored to full health.

Finally, having installed Harry as safely as they could, the three of them returned upstairs for a stiff drink of Fire Whiskey.

“Where did you find him?” Hermione asked Lucius as she sipped at the throat-burning liquid.

“At Hogsmeade,” Lucius replied. “He came at me from one of the alleyways. I didn't recognise him at first and almost killed him defending myself, but then I saw the scar on his forehead and...” he shrugged. “...I knew how dear he was to you.”

Hermione's eyes welled up. “Thank you,” she whispered. It meant the world to her that Lucius had cared for her so much as to put his own life in danger to rescue her friend. She was still haunted with the grief and guilt of losing Ron, and had almost given up all hope of ever seeing Harry again. She could only hope the potion would work this time...

...

The three of them agreed to rest up for the remainder of the evening, in order to be refreshed for the midnight ritual. Hermione took a calming herbal bath and skimmed through the pages of the incantation again. Of course, she knew it by rote, but she always found that swotting helped her to relax her nerves.

Finally, the hour approached, and she joined Severus and Lucius in the Solarium. The glass-roofed chamber was flooded with the light of a full moon and thousands of twinkling stars. It was incredibly beautiful, but tonight she was too focused on the task at hand to dwell on pleasing aesthetics.

Solemnly, she approached the small table where Severus had set up his cauldron and was already bringing the brew to a low simmer. His dark eyes were fixed on the silvery mixture, slowly roiling in the moonlight which poured down upon its surface.

At one minute before midnight, the three took their appointed positions around the cauldron. Lucius and Hermione joined hands while Severus made the finishing flourishes with his wand. Then the black-eyed wizard took up the silken threads of hair from Helios and Selene, and held it over the bubbling cauldron. As the first stroke of midnight chimed, he dropped the tufts in, and immediately the concoction began to glow, as if the moon were shining, not upon it, but from within it.

Then he, too, joined hands with Hermione and Lucius, and all three began to recite the incantation.

 

“ _Great Goddess Hecate of the three moons,_

_We, your servants, Serpent, Bat and Lamp, unite as one to do your bidding._

_In atonement, we give you our blood,_

_From one pure, one between two worlds and one from outside who has come in._

_In humbleness, we offer you one hair light and one hair dark,_

_From the ones Decreed by you, oh Goddess._

_In sacrifice, we devote ourselves to your service,_

_Reliant on your boundless wisdom and infinite clemency._

_Help us to repay the debt incurred by the Pretender, Voldemort_

_Whose unnatural deeds corrupted and blighted the fate of humankind._

_Lead us, by the light of your twin torches,_

_To restore the rightful balance of all things._

_Ye Goddess of the craft and the crossroad, of the night and the occult,_

_Ye guardian of all those who live in the shadowy hereafter,_

_And whose dominion lies over heaven, earth, and sea:_

_We cry your mercy.”_

 

Although they had recited the long incantation many times before, there was something palpably different about the ritual this time. As the last word died from their lips, there was a buzzing, humming sound and suddenly a blue flame leapt up from the ground to encircle them. Hermione could feel her tattoos prickling and throbbing, and there was an incredible sensation of one-ness with the men who stood with her, as if they were all carved from the same great Oak tree depicted on their backs.

The deep, rich, shimmering voice they had heard in the Misty Moor, rang out around them.

“ _MY SERVANTS, I AM APPEASED. GO FORTH AND HEAL THY HUMAN BRETHREN.”_

The room was suddenly bathed in light, so bright that they were forced to close their eyes or be blinded. When they opened their eyes once more, the cauldron of silver liquid had turned to a fine, powdery dust.


	10. Chapter 10

****

Chapter Ten & Epilogue 

co-written by

jamies_lady & the_artful_scribbler

****

 

 

"One two, three, four, five," Hermione counted slowly and with exaggerated patience. The twins tried to look innocent. Draco as well. But somehow the snake was still chasing the kitten and squirrel up the curtains.

"Helios, _please_ pick up Sir Hiss. Selene, please remove Klaws from the curtains, and Draco, open the window for the squirrel."

All three quietly did as she asked. The two younger ones grinned at their beloved older brother, waiting to see what would happen next.

Hermione patted the back of the baby in her arms. "Draco?"

Her Hogwarts nemesis looked at her with his clear grey eyes, so much like his father's that she found it hard to stay angry.

"Yes, mother dearest?"

It was enough to make Hermione burst out laughing. "What started this? I have only just got Diana to sleep."

"We were just playing make-believe about the Walkers,” Helios piped up. “Draco was being a Walker and chasing us, and Sir Hiss was just making believe too." How Helios actually managed to keep a straight face as he said those words, Hermione wasn't quite sure. Her children had so much Slytherin in their souls she found it hard to see herself in them at all.

Draco winked at Hermione. "I just tell them you locked me in the dungeon and refused to let me out."

Hermione grinned at Draco, but in all honesty, that dreadful time wasn't much of a laughing matter. She hid her face in the crook of her new daughter's neck, breathing in the soft baby smell, trying to rid herself of the memories that still haunted her after all this time. Of course, as each year passed, they became less horrifying and nightmarish, but they never completely went away. She wondered if they ever would.

Hermione was brought out of her day-dream by hands reaching for the baby and a new voice addressing her.

"And how's my God-daughter doing?" Harry grinned at her, the scars on his face making his mouth twist into a scowl that Severus would be proud of.

But seconds later Draco took the sleeping baby out of Harry's arms. " _MY SISTER_ is just great, thanks for asking."

Hermione massaged her temples. "Stop it the both of you, or so help me, if you wake her up again, I will have the pair of you brewing potions with Severus for a month."

Harry froze. Draco wordlessly handed Diana back over to her mother. That was definitely a threat too far.

"Come on, kids,” Harry called out, pointing to the door. “Broom rides."

The twins squealed with joy and charged out of the room, leaving Draco and Harry trailing out behind them. Hermione shook her head, laughing quietly. After recovering from the plague, the two young men had been determined to bury the hatchet and fill their lives with joy and laughter, but their old habits of rivalry certainly died hard. It was very amusing, even if it drove her demented.

Hermione gently placed Diana in her crib then sat down at her desk and picked up her quill.

 

 _'Even after the Chosen Three had finally perfected the powdered-potion and appeased the anger of the Goddess Hecate,'_ she wrote, _'it was still a long road before they could redeem all of the infected from their terrible fate._

_After successfully healing the Walkers held in captivity at Prince Manor's prison, among whom the most notable were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, the Chosen Three spent many weeks capturing more of the infected and trialling different methods and systems to spread the antidote to the wider populace of Britain._

_These experiments, though laborious and time-consuming, proved extremely important. For instance, it was discovered that a Walker, once returned to its human state, was immune to the virus and could not be reinfected, and that the efficacy of the dust remained active and airborne for a period of 24 hours. Surprisingly, it was discovered that the cured target reverted to his or her pre-curse state and suffered no internal injuries, although some surface scarring remained. It is believed that it was the will of Hecate to leave a visible and lasting reminder of the cost of meddling with the sacred and divine Laws of Nature._

_Finally, it was determined that the most expedient method would be to spread the antidote via delivery owls bearing Howlers pre-loaded with the silver dust. The owls were instructed to drop the laced Howlers onto the nocturnally-active infected, upon which the ensuing explosion would coat multiple targets with the antidote.”_

 

Hermione leaned back in her chair, her mind wandering back to that momentous night, when they finally appeased Hecate and cured Draco and Harry. Her eyes still prickled with emotional tears at the memory.

Lucius had gone first, reaching through the bars of his son's cell and sprinkling the silver dust over him. After screaming and writhing painfully for several minutes, Draco had suddenly collapsed. Lucius, heedless of danger to himself, had wrenched open the door of the cell, fallen to his knees and gathered his son in his embrace, rocking Draco's limp body and calling his name over and over.

They all witnessed the change. Draco's emaciated face began first to gain substance, then colour. Then, his eyes flickered open, and instead of the horrible milk-white pupils, his cool grey eyes gazed calmly up at Lucius's face. “Hello father,” he had said. They had all laughed until tears of pure joy rolled down their cheeks.

Harry's reversion had been harder. Upon opening his beautiful green eyes, his first words had been, “Ron? Where's Ron?” Hermione, unable to speak, had simply held her friend and wept...

A soft kiss on the side of her neck brought Hermione out of her sad reverie.

"How are the memoirs coming along?" The silky tones of Severus asked.

"Slowly,” Hermione replied, looking up at her dark-haired husband with a smile. “It's easy enough to write the facts, but difficult to put the emotion of those days into words. So much horror followed by so much happiness and sorrow. I'm finding it rather...stressful, actually."

She sighed gratefully as Severus stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders with his surprisingly strong fingers. “Does that help relieve your stress, Miss Granger?” he murmured.

Hermione huffed in mock-displeasure. "The name is Mrs Malfoy-Snape, _if_ you don't mind."

She knew Severus loved to hear her to say his name like that, and she liked to please her husband. It had become something of a pleasant little ritual between them, the closest thing to flirtation that the sardonic wizard could comfortably engage in.

Diana grizzled in her crib, and Hermione moved to attend her. But Severus was there first, scooping the little girl up into his arms. Immediately she stopped fretting and cooed happily. "Highly intelligent—for a Malfoy," Severus said. The smile in his eyes gave him away. He could not love the little girl any more than he did. Holding her up to look into her eyes, he gave a small, gentle smile when she blew a bubble at him. “Ah, I see,” he said. “Is that your considered opinion, Miss Malfoy?”

Diana followed this up with a raspberry.

“I agree entirely.” He kissed her soft cheek then replaced her gently back in her crib. With a swish of his wand he produced a cluster of brightly-coloured butterflies that flittered over Diana's head, keeping her happily entertained as he turned back to his wife once more.

“We have the final decision from the International Committee," he abruptly announced.

Hermione gasped and immediately jumped to her feet. “And?!”

Severus smiled. "They are satisfied that no Walkers remain in Britain, and have given the go-ahead to have the Great Ward removed.”

“Yes! _Finally!_ ” Hermione threw her arms around her husband. “That is wonderful, _wonderful_ news!”

“Took them long enough,” Severus grumbled into her curls, but she could tell he was really as pleased and relieved as she was. “There is to be an announcement later today, and a celebration tonight.”

Hermione looked up at her husband, a naughty smile curving her lips. "Do we have to go?” she asked, bringing her hands around to stroke his lean torso. “I can think of _much_ better ways of celebrating the news than listening to a bunch of tiresome old bores give speeches to make themselves feel clever and important."

“Did someone say clever and important?” Lucius swept into the room with his habitual majestic resplendence. “Talking about me, were you?”

“Actually we _were_ talking about tiresome old bores,” Severus snarked. “I suppose you fall into at least one of those categories.”

Hermione wouldn't be surprised if Lucius lost his cool one of these days and rewarded his acid-tongued friend with a stinging hex. But if so, that day was not today. Instead, the blond wizard flicked his beautiful mane of hair behind his wide shoulders and slanted one fine brow at Severus. “It takes one to know one, my friend,” he smoothly rejoined.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You two are—”

“Inspiring?” Severus offered.

“Adorable?” Lucius hazarded.

“Insufferable,” Hermione supplied. “But I love you, anyway.” She relinquished her hold on Severus and moved over to her other husband, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “You've heard the news too, of course?”

Lucius nodded. “I just came from the Ministry. The new Minister has been pestering me to reconsider giving our consent to replant our grove of trees somewhere the public can visit regularly."

Hermione pulled a face. "No, never, absolutely not."

"The exact words I used.”

Hermione shook her head. "I swear, if I have to talk to that slime-ball Minister again, I am going to turn the man into a toad. Actually no. I like toads. He can become a frog."

"Useful as a potion ingredient," said Severus drily.

"He really is a slimy newt. Last time I saw him, he offered to become a third husband for me."

Severus' eyes darkened to coal. "Did he now?”

Lucius looked positively wrathful. “And you didn't tell us, because?"

"I didn't? I could have sworn... I'm sorry, I thought I already mentioned it." A gradual smile spread over her face as she thought back. "...It was the night I came home to find you two finishing off the third bottle of Tarry's special-brew elf-wine. I think being carried to bed by both of you put it entirely out my mind..."

"In that case, wife, you are forgiven,” Lucius murmured, with a glint in his eye that promised a thorough repeat of that memorable night.

“Although _he_ is not,” Severus added, moving in behind Hermione to trap her between himself and his friend. He reached down to turn her face toward him, imprinting her lips with a deep, rather-demanding kiss. Hermione squeaked as she felt Lucius's large hands infiltrate her blouse and cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples. There was a definite, promising rigidness pressing against her from both directions.

Hermione smiled into Severus's passionate kiss. Ah, there was nothing like a little jealousy to arouse the possessive side of her two husbands... Her body thrummed pleasurably with the familiar yet fervent need to have them inside her, fully connected, honouring the bond that Hecate forged between them.

Yes, she thought, this would be the perfect way to celebrate the news that Great Britain was officially rid of the Walkers. It seemed that the story of the “Curse of the Misty Moors” would have its fairy-tale ending, after all. And so would they.

…

 

_ EPILOGUE _

 

_Diana looked out across the water to the small, misty island in the middle of the lake. It looked as barren as her heart felt. Even the sight of her great-grandchildren picking flowers for potions ingredients couldn’t lighten the weight in her chest._

_They were gone, her beloved mama, papa and dad were gone. Buried together on the island in the center of the Black Lake at Hogwarts. The three sacred trees under which they lay were already reaching for one another, despite being planted less than an hour ago. Ash, oak and willow, twining together, supporting one another, for ever._

_As her brothers and sisters joined her in the vigil, Diana felt the wetness on her cheeks as her tears cascaded down. One of her brothers slipped his hand into hers._

_Suddenly they all gasped in wonder as an unearthly glow began to pulse from the fog-strewn grove. They watched in awe as an altar to the Goddess Hecate appeared from the light and settled over the grave. The mists swirled and parted, and Diana could see the shimmering spirits of her mama, papa and dad walking out from the grove. Her heart lightened and some of the pain receded as momentarily the trio stood still, smiling across the lake at them, bathed in the beautiful, pulsing, golden light._

_Then they turned and walked back into the enclosing mists, fading away into the ether...hand in hand in hand._

 

_The End._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was written for the Granger Enchanted Survivors Facebook group, a members-only group of writers and readers who discuss and rec all things Hermione-centric. Come and join the fanfic fun! 
> 
> MissFantastic, mrs_helenesnape, jamies_lady and the_artful_scribbler would like to thank you for reading their story. If you enjoyed the story, we'd love you to leave a comment! Thanks!


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